Brains over Bronze
by xxDropdeadxx
Summary: After a zombie outbreak, a group of people struggle to survive until help can arrive.
1. Chapter 1

The roar of the engine drowned out the sound of blaring guns all around her, Abby looked up, a wall was stopping her. This was more of an organic wall, composed of shuffling groaning corpses. She swallowed hard, gripping her motorcycle's handlebar tighter, revving the engine. She bit her lip, deciding if raging towards them or swerving around them would help her avoid getting her leg chomped on.

Soon, she looked over at the woman next to her, a riffle in her hand, she seemed so emotionless. Abby had met her further back in a cornfield she ducked into, she had a duffel bag full of survival materials that it almost seemed as if she had planned for this for a long time. Abby moved her hand to feel the glock resting in her jacket pocket. "You are going to have to use it sometime." The woman looked back at her, using amazing precision to shoot off the head of a chain smoking bar attending ghoul, she shuddered, precise shooting would help her live a long time in this hell hole. She looked up, the gruesome sight of them gaining of her woke her from her fan girl daydreaming. "Shoot the damn zombies!" she screamed at Abby, pulling out her AK 47 and giving them a taste of bullet shells. She froze, the splattered bits and parts of rotting flesh coated the asphalt next to her, causing her to shake a bit. She was a twenty year old college student, who by this morning, figured out she wasn't finishing college anytime soon, considering all of her professors had more than just helping brains GROW on their rotting minds. The women's long blonde hair was tied back, and her face was smeared with blood and motor oil, a few scratches, and a nasty bruise made her look like one of those war heroes out of a bad explosion movie. "Come on, we have to get further into the country before the farmers meet their new neighbors, if you get what I'm saying." She signaled for Abby, who rode a bit further towards her. "We have to pick out what we need from the house." She pointed over at the small farmhouse they have slaughtered the residents of. "Got it." Abby nodded slowly, her mind was broken from all of it.

"You take any weapon, bullets, or shotgun, they usually have them in the living room in these parts just hung like trophies , I'll grab oil and gas, medicine, and hopefully water bottles." She instructed, pulling out her smaller gun which she hadn't noticed she even had. "Got it?" she snapped. Abby nodded quickly, gripping her glock tight.

The basement was dark, as they opened the old chipping door, revealing a basement full of boxes. "Well, it's our lucky day." Abby smiled, pointing to the small blocks of dehydrated food and hunting gear. "Guess it is." She grinned at Abby. The slowly descended, and searched for a light source. Flick! The basement was illuminated by a flickering hanging 1950's light-bulb. "Hunters." The blonde woman laughed happily, first time Abby had seen her loosen up on her gun and her tense facial expression this whole time. "How are we going to carry this all?" her hand swung to her hip. She peered over at Abby, smirking. "Farmers drive trucks."

"Ugh!" Abby groaned, tossing a box into the bed of the shiny new steak-and-potatoes- hunting truck they found laying covered in livers and fingers, puss and blood. "So,…are you some sort of army soldier or something?" she asked looking over at her as they drove down the highway. "Cop, twelve years. Officer Melina Zapata from Arizona, call me Zapata" She responded. That made sense, but made Abby a bit more nervous, she had her share of wild parties and flashing, and plenty of weed. "Oh, that helps with the whole surviving a zombie apocalypse and all that fun stuff huh? Well, I'm Abby, a college student, three years. Call me Abby.." She said feeling a bit stupid, she turned to look at the road blurring by, so many, shuffling around, lifeless, but so animated. "You can see the hunger in there rotting eyes." Zapata remarked, as Abby toggled with the radio dials, searching for something besides news on "reanimation z virus" just a fancier name for liver loving, spleen sucking freaks. "Thank you, by the way." Abby said quietly, looking down at her hands, not sure what to do with them. "For what?" she asked curiously, raising a brow. " Saving me." She responded timidly, remembering running around on campus, and throwing herself onto the parking lot pavement, hiding under a toyota until the packs of scared teens and zombies were gone, and riding her stolen bike into a ditch, almost getting her arm torn off by a farmers wife, and hearing a loud pop, then looking up and seeing Zapata gripping a gun.

The night rolled in, they turned on the brightest setting of lights and ran over a few corpses, but for the most part, the country was clear of zombies. Abby had fallen asleep, her jacket hood pulled over her face, using it as a blanket. Zapata looked over at her and smiled a little bit, then, a tall figure was standing on the road. This zombie had bright blue eyed, and was tall, so tall. She swerved, waking Abby up. "This isn't a zombie." Zapata barked, causing Abby to grow alert. They shot out of the car, looking at the tall man, his messy black hair was slightly greasy with blood and oil. "Are you bit?" she called out, keeping her distance. Abby stared at him, how long had he been alone? "NO!" he voice sounded weak, and cracking. He limped over towards them, his shoulders shaking, they examined him, he was bleeding, and it was obvious he had seen more than both of them that day. "Get in the truck pussy." Zapata rolled her eyes, hopping back into the car.

"I'm Remy." He said quietly, sitting in the back seat of the truck. He looked up at Abby, who was glancing at him from time to time "Are you hurt?" Abby asked, she was training to be an anesthesiologist. "Ah, it's just a scratch." He waved it away, but she saw a gash in his shoulder and winced. "Sure." She said sarcastically


	2. Chapter 2

The truck rolled forward on the high way, it had been another hour and a half, and they were already reaching a luxurious country summer home with a rather large gate, accompanied by barbwire. "A private property lot, doesn't look like the owners visit often if at all." Zapata observed. Abby smiled with relief, Zapata was beginning to be somewhat of a teacher for her, she was so observant and quick on her feet, which were always in some sort of ethical shoe, easy to run in or climb quietly. She also lacked fear, or if she did feel fear, she was able to hide it well enough to allow everyone else to remain calm. "Great." Abby chimed in, the first time she had sounded really truly positive the whole car ride. "How do we know the owners are zombie chow already?" Remy asked, with difficulty, the wounds he had were serious, and he knew Abby wouldn't stop until he let her treat them, like all doctors.

"Grab your gun." She reminded her, her bright chestnut eyes lit up with shock, she had to use a gun now, and was expected to carry it around like a purse from now on. "Oh, and frenchie, here," the beach bunny police officer tossed him a Remington they salvaged from the house they also took the truck from. "Thanks." He said, not sure if he was supposed to appreciate being called "Frenchie". They ran past acres of willow trees and heavily tented gardens, a gardener, great. A zombie with hedge cutters plastered itself in her mind as they walked in. "Frenchie, you look in the backyard, if there is any sign of life or reanimated life you shout for us immediately. Squeaks, you take this floor, if you find anything not human, shoot, no hesitating. I'll take the upstairs, when we are done searching, we come down here and meet right where we are standing." Remy nodded, and looked at Abby, who looked as if she was going to hurl out of nervousness. "You'll be fine, just aim, and pull the trigger. After all, they aren't real people anymore." He shrugged

"Anymo.." she stopped, he was already gone.

Timidly, she began to move, her gun aimed in the air, ready to shoot some shells. Abby thought of having to pull the trigger, watching the corpse drop to the floor with a thud, she felt like a murderer. But, nurses killed all the time, if patients began to age and fall into comas, they would just, fade away, it was every hospitals dirty little secret. So with a new view on the situation, she began to thoroughly search the first level.

Zapata gripped her weapon tightly, she kicked the door in of a bathroom, nothing. "This place is empty." She sighed, placing a hand on her hip. Her boot thudded on the floor, she paused, hearing a creak, she stepped again, no creak this time. Her face turned slowly behind her, nobody was behind her. Another creak, then a spine chilling shudder came. The door swung, something moved, Zapata shouted. Abby began to race up the stairs. She reached the top of the stairs to see her laughing, and holding out a broom. "Scary." She chuckled, dropping it. They laughed for a while, but soon grew aware of what the mission was. "So, I have a question." Abby asked after moments of searching together.

"Shoot."

"Well, did the police force have a plan for this?"

"Hm,..not exactly."

"Not exactly?" she was even more intrigued.

"It's hard to explain, do nurses and doctors have a plan for when an unknown illness come in?"

"Sort of." Abby began to understand.

"When we finally began to believe the reports there were coming in, it was almost too late, almost. We were told to patrol, we have reinforced troopers, but nothing that could hold up a massive amount of bodies clambering on the windshield."

"But the police force, it is supposed to be able to adapt quickly." She pointed out

"Could you adapt quickly to something that seems unreal?"

"I see your point."

"Soon, the town began to break out with panic, the infection had broke out too quickly for the force to warn people about it. We have scientists upstate working on cures, as well as all over the world, but that is class A shit not even the sheriff can know about."

"Why don't we send people to hide with the scientists, how are they going to help those who aren't infected? I've seen at least a dozen healthy people looking for a way out of this place."

"Where can we send them Abby? Greenland? Iceland? The only place we can tell them to head that is logical is to Northern Canada or Alaska, the cold destroys the infected completely, there are less than half not infected, and we are trying to send out choppers to pick up large amounts of people and settle them in Alaska, or maybe Iceland. But the choppers can't get here yet, so until then, we have to survive and stall, and hopefully get to a place where they can reach us now."

Remy winced, gritting his teeth, he was bleeding even worse now, the backyard was just a vastly protected acre of grass, and a tire swing. Before he turned, he noticed a small shed. "Oh great." He groaned. He opened the shed door after having to shoot off the lock, which he never believed could actually be done until the lock plopped to the ground. "Here goes." He muttered, opening the shed quickly, revealing a lawnmower, and copious amounts of gas. "Jackpot!" he cheered, slipped his rifle back on his shoulder by it's sling, and grabbing three large cases of oil. He struggled, and grunted, but managed to toss them onto the wood floor of the kitchen. "Oh god, no more heavy lifting." He heaved, his wounds bleeding more. "Woah, Frenchie, hats off to you." she whistled, Abby was behind her. "You're really hurt." She pushed past her.

"Really Abby, I am fine." He protested, trying to stop her from peeling off his leather jacket, which was caked with dried blood. "Oh my god.." she inhaled, seeing a large tear from his skin. "What happened?" Abby gasped, shakily placing her fingers near the wound. A click turned their attention to Zapata's gun which was aimed at his temple. "You said you weren't bit."

"And I wasn't, I got beat up trying to fight for a car to get out of here, and got hurt climbing through barb wire." She retired her gun back to her side, nodding, still keeping an eye on him. "Take him to the bathroom, fix him up." She ordered them.

"What were you doing climbing through barbwire?" Abby asked softly, digging a bullet shell from his arm. "I was OW- OW OW!" he gripped a towel, squeezing it as hard as he could.

"Sorry." She smiled a little, pouring a bit of alcohol on medical wrap, and wrapping it around his arm.  
>"I was uh, in the penitentiary, for a few things." He left it at that, giving a look, telling her not to ask too much more. "Oh..so you left a safe jail to go here?" she laughed a little, pulling out a small needle from the medical kit they snatched from a drugstore way back. "How long can someone stay in a jail cell without food and water? Zombies can smell you, taste you in the air, they would find me." He said, his tone changing, and his solemn blue eyes growing sullen and dark. "What about you? Where were you before this?" he looked down at the small nurse like woman helping him. She thought about it for a while "I was attending the university, studying to be an anesthesiologist, my father was..," she remembered her parents and choked up "my father was a doctor, and I wanted to follow his footsteps." Remy nodded, he could tell she lost plenty of people as well. "I'm really sorry." He said quietly, looking at her, trying to communicate how hurt he was too just by the look in his eyes. "It's..it's life." She nodded. Then, a scream, a blood curdling scream. They looked up at each other, "Zapata".<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

The truck rolled forward on the high way, it had been another hour and a half, and they were already reaching a luxurious country summer home with a rather large gate, accompanied by barbwire. "A private property lot, doesn't look like the owners visit often if at all." Zapata observed. Abby smiled with relief, Zapata was beginning to be somewhat of a teacher for her, she was so observant and quick on her feet, which were always in some sort of ethical shoe, easy to run in or climb quietly. She also lacked fear, or if she did feel fear, she was able to hide it well enough to allow everyone else to remain calm. "Great." Abby chimed in, the first time she had sounded really truly positive the whole car ride. "How do we know the owners are zombie chow already?" Remy asked, with difficulty, the wounds he had were serious, and he knew Abby wouldn't stop until he let her treat them, like all doctors.

"Grab your gun." She reminded her, her bright chestnut eyes lit up with shock, she had to use a gun now, and was expected to carry it around like a purse from now on. "Oh, and frenchie, here," the beach bunny police officer tossed him a Remington they salvaged from the house they also took the truck from. "Thanks." He said, not sure if he was supposed to appreciate being called "Frenchie". They ran past acres of willow trees and heavily tented gardens, a gardener, great. A zombie with hedge cutters plastered itself in her mind as they walked in. "Frenchie, you look in the backyard, if there is any sign of life or reanimated life you shout for us immediately. Squeaks, you take this floor, if you find anything not human, shoot, no hesitating. I'll take the upstairs, when we are done searching, we come down here and meet right where we are standing." Remy nodded, and looked at Abby, who looked as if she was going to hurl out of nervousness. "You'll be fine, just aim, and pull the trigger. After all, they aren't real people anymore." He shrugged

"Anymo.." she stopped, he was already gone.

Timidly, she began to move, her gun aimed in the air, ready to shoot some shells. Abby thought of having to pull the trigger, watching the corpse drop to the floor with a thud, she felt like a murderer. But, nurses killed all the time, if patients began to age and fall into comas, they would just, fade away, it was every hospitals dirty little secret. So with a new view on the situation, she began to thoroughly search the first level.

Zapata gripped her weapon tightly, she kicked the door in of a bathroom, nothing. "This place is empty." She sighed, placing a hand on her hip. Her boot thudded on the floor, she paused, hearing a creak, she stepped again, no creak this time. Her face turned slowly behind her, nobody was behind her. Another creak, then a spine chilling shudder came. The door swung, something moved, Zapata shouted. Abby began to race up the stairs. She reached the top of the stairs to see her laughing, and holding out a broom. "Scary." She chuckled, dropping it. They laughed for a while, but soon grew aware of what the mission was. "So, I have a question." Abby asked after moments of searching together.

"Shoot."

"Well, did the police force have a plan for this?"

"Hm,..not exactly."

"Not exactly?" she was even more intrigued.

"It's hard to explain, do nurses and doctors have a plan for when an unknown illness come in?"

"Sort of." Abby began to understand.

"When we finally began to believe the reports there were coming in, it was almost too late, almost. We were told to patrol, we have reinforced troopers, but nothing that could hold up a massive amount of bodies clambering on the windshield."

"But the police force, it is supposed to be able to adapt quickly." She pointed out

"Could you adapt quickly to something that seems unreal?"

"I see your point."

"Soon, the town began to break out with panic, the infection had broke out too quickly for the force to warn people about it. We have scientists upstate working on cures, as well as all over the world, but that is class A shit not even the sheriff can know about."

"Why don't we send people to hide with the scientists, how are they going to help those who aren't infected? I've seen at least a dozen healthy people looking for a way out of this place."

"Where can we send them Abby? Greenland? Iceland? The only place we can tell them to head that is logical is to Northern Canada or Alaska, the cold destroys the infected completely, there are less than half not infected, and we are trying to send out choppers to pick up large amounts of people and settle them in Alaska, or maybe Iceland. But the choppers can't get here yet, so until then, we have to survive and stall, and hopefully get to a place where they can reach us now."

Remy winced, gritting his teeth, he was bleeding even worse now, the backyard was just a vastly protected acre of grass, and a tire swing. Before he turned, he noticed a small shed. "Oh great." He groaned. He opened the shed door after having to shoot off the lock, which he never believed could actually be done until the lock plopped to the ground. "Here goes." He muttered, opening the shed quickly, revealing a lawnmower, and copious amounts of gas. "Jackpot!" he cheered, slipped his rifle back on his shoulder by it's sling, and grabbing three large cases of oil. He struggled, and grunted, but managed to toss them onto the wood floor of the kitchen. "Oh god, no more heavy lifting." He heaved, his wounds bleeding more. "Woah, Frenchie, hats off to you." she whistled, Abby was behind her. "You're really hurt." She pushed past her.

"Really Abby, I am fine." He protested, trying to stop her from peeling off his leather jacket, which was caked with dried blood. "Oh my god.." she inhaled, seeing a large tear from his skin. "What happened?" Abby gasped, shakily placing her fingers near the wound. A click turned their attention to Zapata's gun which was aimed at his temple. "You said you weren't bit."

"And I wasn't, I got beat up trying to fight for a car to get out of here, and got hurt climbing through barb wire." She retired her gun back to her side, nodding, still keeping an eye on him. "Take him to the bathroom, fix him up." She ordered them.

"What were you doing climbing through barbwire?" Abby asked softly, digging a bullet shell from his arm. "I was OW- OW OW!" he gripped a towel, squeezing it as hard as he could.

"Sorry." She smiled a little, pouring a bit of alcohol on medical wrap, and wrapping it around his arm.  
>"I was uh, in the penitentiary, for a few things." He left it at that, giving a look, telling her not to ask too much more. "Oh..so you left a safe jail to go here?" she laughed a little, pulling out a small needle from the medical kit they snatched from a drugstore way back. "How long can someone stay in a jail cell without food and water? Zombies can smell you, taste you in the air, they would find me." He said, his tone changing, and his solemn blue eyes growing sullen and dark. "What about you? Where were you before this?" he looked down at the small nurse like woman helping him. She thought about it for a while "I was attending the university, studying to be an anesthesiologist, my father was..," she remembered her parents and choked up "my father was a doctor, and I wanted to follow his footsteps." Remy nodded, he could tell she lost plenty of people as well. "I'm really sorry." He said quietly, looking at her, trying to communicate how hurt he was too just by the look in his eyes. "It's..it's life." She nodded. Then, a scream, a blood curdling scream. They looked up at each other, "Zapata".<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

"Yes we will." Remy assured her, kicking into survival mode. He remembered the brute strength and quick wit he had to use just getting out of prison was coming back to him, he remembered what he looked like at the beginning of being thrown into his cell. Wiry, thin, pale, and sure as hell not the kind of ice cold bastard he was now. This was the most emotion he had been able to squeeze out in a long time, carnage changes you. "How?" Zapata asked, seeing he had a plan. He smiled, clapping his hands together, before snatching his gun up. "Get Abby ready, get your gun and follow me. You got the car keys?" he asked walking towards the backyard. "Yeah why?" she raised a brow, the girls following behind him. "Go into the car, get the car started and I'll be there soon." He didn't even look at them, he just motioned towards the car and ran towards the shed in the backyard. They looked at each other and fled the house to the car, they shot down a couple zombies, and slipped into the car, and locked the doors waiting for him to run up. Abby wiped tears from her eyes, feeling silly for crying, she had seen worse things done to patients in hospitals, she had touched colons and livers like it was nothing. She guessed it was just the shock of watching something fall to the ground from her actions.

Remy looked around as mobs of corpses climbed from bushes and trees around. He pulled the doors open, and struggled to dump over a large vat of oil and tossed it towards the house. Remy pulled out a camel menthol, and lit it. "He is wasting time lighting up a fucking square?" Zapata watched, a vein in her head pulsing with anger. Abby felt herself growing nervous just watching him stand there nonchalantly, a few zombies would hit the windows, and clawing at the sides of the cars. He took one long drag, and smiled, letting the smoke from his lips slowly. "Burn in hell fuckers" he muttered, tossing the lighter at the trail of oil. "Oh my..god." Zapata said between gritted teeth. He began to run towards the car as the corpses dragged towards the fire. The fire grew ablaze, eating at the cabin like a fat kid. He pounded on the glass hard, drawing their attention from the fire, Abby opened the car door and pulled him in as they began to drive away. "The only good thing we got out of that was four huge barrels of oil." Abby sighed, watching the bright spot turn into a blazing speck on the horizon. "We will drive up into Virginia, seeing as they constantly patrol there." Zapata muttered, viewing the road. Abby flicked on the radio, and through the reports, all they could sputter out was to go north! Go north and never look back! "Looks like we're going North." Remy announced.

"No we aren't" she laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Yes. We are." Remy said slowly, looking at her, he felt himself losing his temper. Zapata slowed down, looking around at him. "Look kid, the North is just a solution for people that aren't important enough to be saved and now, I'm a chief of a squad, they won't just fucking stare at us like civilians, they will fly us to a small island somewhere safe." She yelled back. Remy was about to say something but let out a drag instead, the smoke clouding the car. "We won't get there in one piece." He shook his head slowly, seeing Abby look at him. "What the fuck are you staring at?" he wasn't afraid to piss a girl off. "Hey shut the fuck up jailbait." Abby sneered. The car grew silent, and they all felt the stress getting to them. "I'm sorry." Remy said, squishing his smoke against the window. Abby ignored him, just staring at the road in front of them. "Where will we go tonight?" Abby asked quietly, watching the "Welcome to Missouri" sign fade back. "There is a small collection of new houses being built, they are nice suburb looking houses." Remy pointed them.

"I think I was asking Zapata." She kept her eyes in front of her. He nodded, feeling the sting of her voice. "We will sleep there, but as soon as morning comes, we need to keep driving." She went with Remy's plan. Piles of dirt and large machinery surrounded them as they found a house almost done, they could see plainly that the houses had been abandoned just like their hope. "Get your bags and run in, make no noise." She ordered them.

"I don't see any z's." Abby looked at her.

"Looters." She pointed to a small tent, slowing down the pace of the truck to make less noise. "More people the better!" Remy said a bit more excited. "Not quite, they are leeches, they are off their rocker and are ready to slit little Abby's throat here is they don't get our canned food and the oil, maybe even the truck . Not to mention, me being a cop they will lay a sob story on thick and maybe beat you down for being a former criminal and surviving." She pointed out, stopping the car at the house near a small manmade lake. "Take the car keys." She tossed them to Abby as she kicked the door open.

They lugged in the more important things they didn't want to the looters to spot, as well as drove the car into the half finished garage. They settled together in the master bedroom, which smelled like paint and sawdust. "I should go down and talk to the looters, try to clear them out and get them to head north." Zapata decided, grabbing her AK and walking down the stairs.

"If there are any corpses at all, come right back." Abby ordered her, for the first time telling her what to do. "Well Squeaks, looks like we grew a backbone." She winked before walking out, her long dirty blond hair swaying behind her. Abby stumbled back into the room, they didn't dare turn on any lights, since the circuiting could be faulty, and they didn't want to attract attention. The moon illuminated the room, and in the large beam of light filtering through the large shiny window, swirls of smoke clouded around the glowing ember of his cigarette he lit using a lighter they found left behind by the construction crew . "Abby." He started quietly. He took another drag, watching her ignore him and climb into the massive king sized bed. Remy leaned his head against the windowsill, humming. "I really am sorry." He said after moments of silence. She looked up at him from her copy of some dumb romance novel that kept her entertained. "That's great." She nodded once slowly, looking back down at the words "_as he_ _pulled her close, she could smell the cologne of her lover, their lips meeting, and his hand grabbing a fistful of her hair, letting out a moan." _ She blushed the tiniest bit, and curled her toes feeling them getting a bit cold. She let her dark brunette hair down, large beachy waves fell down onto her shoulders, she could still smell her Herbal Essences orchid and lilac conditioner.

Meanwhile, the tanned officer made her way to the small tent, the sound of a small fire crackling made her well aware they were awake and smart enough to survive this long. She readied her weapon, and opened a flap. "Nobody move!" she shouted. A young girl, maybe six or seven turned, her bright green eyes staring up at her with complete terror. "Where's Jonny?" she whimpered, her scraggly light brown hair fell in her face, and her ripped Cinderella nightgown was dirtied with not koolaid and popcicles like most children, but blood and dirt. "Who's Johnny?" she asked softly, bending down, and setting her gun onto the cold dirt. "Me." A southern twang added to it, she slowly turned her head to see a young teenage boy aiming a shotgun at her, he couldn't be more than fourteen or fifteen. "And if you lay a hand on my sister I'll blow your pig brains all over this campsite." He finished his sentence. "Look, I don't mean any harm. I just came to help." She lied. He examined her, squinting his eyes and sticking his tongue out while concentrating, he lowered his shotgun. "How are you gonna help us? You darn rotten cops abandoned us like a pair of old sneakers." He set a hand on his hip. She thought of something to say. "I am in a house over there, I have more ammunition and food, oil, and adults than you could get in two weeks, think of your sister. You need me." She lied a bit in parts, but for the most part it was true, a cop and a nurse, and an ex convict were good people to have around in times like this. Johnny sighed, taking off his Tigers cap, and rubbing at his sandy blond hair, his bright blue eyes filled with distress, and shock from what he had seen the past few days. "Alright."

Remy stood up, and slipped his smoke back into his lips as he walked over to her. He sat at the end of the bed, staring at her. "What the fuck are you staring at?" she mimicked his words, dropping her book. "You I suppose." His bare chest rose and fell with a slow breathing. She sighed, folding her arms. "Well stop." She said quietly. Remy smiled, and nodded. "I'll get on that." He rolled his eyes, undoing the belt of his skin tight black jeans, and slipping off his vans. Abby watched, and buried her face in the mound of blankets, blushing. He wasn't bad looking, not by a long shot but she had only known him for about three days, and didn't even know why he went to jail, but already she was seeing him in only his boxers.

"In here." They heard a voice say, leading in the two children. "They weren't looters, just two kids." She stated the obvious. "Are they bit?" Abby asked, rushing over to inspect them, the two of them watched Abby excel in the field of being motherly. "It's almost like playing house." Remy watched. "Almost, except the mommy and daddy are eaten by zombies part is a little new." She responded. Abby patted the little girl up and down, making sure there were no bites or broken bones. "How old is she?" she looked up at Johnny. "She's six, her name is Josephina." He responded, eying two somethings besides her eyes. "Check me." He grinned a goofy adolescent grin. She held back her hand from slapping him silly and began to check him, patting around and found a switchblade on him, and small pack of cigarettes. "Smoking isn't for little boys." She scolded him.

"I ain't no little boy , I am a grown man, and an available one." He winked at her.

"Alright I think you're fine." Remy said, stealing the pack of cigarettes. They looked at each other for a long while. "Abby and I will sleep in a different room, considering Zapata can keep watch on you two brats just fine." He said still glaring at the boy. "No Remy, Abby has to stay with them, we can sleep in another room." She shook her head, walking out of the room. "Hm, you heard the woman, you can sleep in another room, the kids sleep with Abby." He smirked and walked over to Abby, ogling at her motioning for him to leave. Remy looked at him for a long while "J'espère que vous aurez mangé par des zombies", and he left.


End file.
